Page 16 of Captive Prize

The rest ofLos Infideleslooked somewhere between bored and uncomfortable, a few wincing with every blow.

I didn’t need to prove I was strong.

Anyone with eyes could see it.

Even Zoya knew that.

What I needed to prove was that I could be trusted—while lying straight to their faces.

I grabbed Pavel by the hair, yanking his head back.

“You could make this easier,” I said. “Just tell the pretty girl what she needs to know.”

“Fuck you.” He spat—and a mouthful of blood and phlegm hit my cheek.

Really?

I wiped it off and backhanded him hard enough to knock him over, chair and all.

A chunk of wood splintered off, hitting the caged bulb above us.

The light swung wildly, throwing shadows across the room like something out of a horror film.

Couldn’t have timed it better if I’d planned it.

One more punch to his shoulder knocked him flat. I followed with a few sharp kicks to his side.

Yeah… he was definitely going to feel that tomorrow.

I felt bad.

Just not as bad as I would’ve if he hadn’t spit on me.

Pavel kept cursing, but the busted chair loosened the ropes. He had his arms again.

I dropped to one knee, grabbed him by the throat, and pressed him to the floor.

“Boot,” I mouthed, before slamming my fist into the side of his face—just shy of the knockout spot.

I rose again and kicked him one last time.

This time, he wrapped his body around my leg, holding tight.

Perfect.

I struggled, just enough to sell it.

While he reached into my boot and slipped the folding knife from my ankle sheath.

The next time I kicked, he rolled away.

“Would you stop playing?” Mateo said.

For one split second, I thought he’d noticed.

“What do you need to know?” I asked, ignoring him. My focus stayed locked on Zoya.

She was the one that mattered.

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